Harry Potter and the Hobbit Tale
by PartiallyObsessed
Summary: "Lovely plan," Harry drawled, "One question, though. Do I ask the dragon for the portkey before or after you band of gits start poking the blasted thing with swords? Or tell me Thorin Bloody Oakenshield, did you expect it to drop dead as soon as it saw your magnificence? " [Summary Inside, Slash]
1. Chapter 1

"Lovely plan," Harry drawled, "One question, though. Do I ask the dragon for the portkey before or after you band of gits start poking the blasted thing with swords? Or tell me Thorin Bloody Oakenshield, did you expect it to drop dead as soon as it saw your _magnificence_? "

**Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. I live in a box...which has wifi. You mustn't question it.**

Warnings: Slash, Slight Dumbledore Bashing, Swearing, &amp; the rating might go up later.

Have you heard that story of Bilbo Baggins being tricked by an old Wizard who invited thirteen Drwarves to the poor old Hobbit's home, who ate _all_ his food and then led him on an extremely dangerous journey (all the while, encouraging the poor Hobbit to **steal**)?

Then I'm positive you've heard the one of that poor little Harry Potter who found out he was a wizard (not the evil kind with green skin and warts, heaven's no. The kind with the wands and brooms) and had to kill off the evil wizard who'd killed his parents, mentored by the great wizard Albus Dumbledore (who coincidentally always vanished when poor little Harry needed his help).

What did you learn from both those tales?

Avoid old wizards that have twinkling eyes. They're nothing but trouble.

Well, you'll not be reading either of those magnificent tales.

The story I'm about to tell you is about that unlucky Harry Potter who begins a journey with a quite odd group (albeit a tad bit reluctantly) to the Misty Mountains. Why? Well for that bloody portkey, of course.

Now, Harry James Potter had never said he was unlucky (he had often thought it, but never once said it outloud) but it seemed as though Lady Luck had an intense loathing (and I mean like pure bloody hatred) for the Boy-Who-Lived because no where in this grassy, green meadow did Harry see the familiar red and gold of Gryffindor Dormitory.

The familiar feeling of his wand in his pocket was the only thing that gave Harry the smallest sense of security, he wasn't unarmed in this strange place.

He wasn't unarmed, but he had no idea where he was.

Not at Hogwarts, that's for sure.

The warm breeze that fluttered towards him, giving him the softest of kisses made it quite obvious that it was not the middle of December here, and it also reminded him that he was feeling awful warm in his thick jumper.

"Oh good, you're up. I was just going to get someone to carry you."

Spinning around quickly, Harry cursed at how easily the small woman who stood before him was able to come up behind him without him noticing.

If he made such careless mistakes with a death eater or Voldemort, he would have been dead right now, and the thought unnerved him.

"I'm sorry but who are you?" Harry asked,

The woman before him was short with long curly blonde hair, the doe like brown eyes, and rosy cheeks but Harry's eyes were glued to the _large_ feet that she had.

"Well, I should be asking you that, stranger. I'm a Hobbit and we're in the Shire, I'm not the odd one here."  
"A hobbit, did you say? What is a Hobbit?" Harry asked,

He had never heard of a Hobbit. From their size Harry thought they might've been related to Goblins, but of course they were far too pretty for that and Harry had never seen a Goblin smile before.

"Arda help me. Well, a Hobbit is...well us!" the woman grumbled before waving her hands in the air, "This is useless, boy! Now come on, I think I know someone who can give you a place to stay for a while. Unless you were...just passing?"

She asked so skeptically as she glanced at Harry's odd attire (and probably lack of provisions and a weapon).

"A place to stay would be lovely, Ma'am."

As she started walking, Harry followed her quickly.

"What did you say your name was again?" the woman asked,

"Harry," Harry instantly said, before frowning. He pondered on whether or not he should tell her his real name. She looked fairly innocent but Poly Juice could turn the wicked into the kindest (well, appearance wise). Ultimately deciding against it, Harry continued, "Harry James."

"Odd name," she sniffed, "I am Rosie Sanybanks."

As she led them up the hill, Harry couldn't help but marvel at the odd looking homes and farms. Although he found it strange, Harry also found it quite beautiful and the children who ran around giggling and laughing sure seemed to agree.

"We need to get some meat on those bones." Rosie mumbled, eying Harry's small size in distaste.

Harry blushed, ducking his head.  
He couldn't quite believe this woman. Only seconds ago, she was spouting nonsense about how he was a stranger and now she was talking about feeding him.

Not that he would say no to a nice a meal, right now.

As they reached the top of the hill, Harry walked as Rosie walked up to the round green door (which looked freshly painted, the only thing off being a small symbol on the corner of the door which looked oddly like a rune).

"No one's home! Good day!", a voice called from inside.

Rosie was fuming, "Bilbo Baggins if you do not open this door, Arda help me I will break it down!"

The door was opened so fast that Harry couldn't help but wonder if these creatures, er... if these Hobbits had super speed.

The man (or Hobbit) that stood before him had curly brown hair and dark eyes. He looked kind but slightly put out at the moment.

"I'm sorry, Rosie. I just had a bit of trouble.", he said, wringing his hands.

Rosie grumbled something under her breath before nodding, "This here is Harry Potter. He needs a place to stay."

At Bilbo's unsure look, she added, "I can personally vouch for him."

That seemed to be enough because Harry was quickly ushered inside the house. As Rosie and Bilbo spoke at the door, Harry looked around the room. Finding a map lying atop a pile of books, he hurried to it.

Grabbing it, Harry frowned at the unfamiliar words written in elegant script at the top of the page,

_Middle Earth_


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Goodness, calm down. I did not make a mistake, I meant to write Harry POTTER, don't worry. It'll be explained. The chapters get longer starting from the next one :)

"So, you must be Harry Potter." Bilbo said, giving Harry a small smile.

He didn't know what to make of this boy with odd garments and the strangest of objects in front of his eyes. Rosie had assured him that the boy would _be good for him and that it would be just magical._ In that odd way that Rosie spoke sometimes, with a far away look, as though she wasn't entirely there.

Harry coughed, "Did you say Potter?"

"Um..yes." Bilbo said, suddenly quite confused, "That _is_ what Rosie called you."

Harry frowned, he was certain that he had introduced himself as Harry James to the odd Hobbit. Shaking his head, he grumbled, "It's Harry James, actually."

"Oh, I apologize. Rosie sometimes…" Bilbo trailed off for a few good seconds, attempting to word it as kindly as possible, "How Rosie's mind works is something none of us quite understand. Her heart's in the right place though."

"It's fine," Harry said, wondering if the peculiar woman was a seer, "Um...the maps on the table. Are they the only ones you have?"

Bilbo looked absolutely disgruntled, "Well I couldn't imagine needing any more! No Hobbit worth his salt would imagine _actually going_ anywhere outside the Shire."

"I'm sorry," Harry said with a small smile, "I didn't mean to come off as rude, I was just curious."

"Oh no, it is completely fine. Now, how about I get some tea and biscuits for us? I made some just this morning."

As the evening rolled in, Harry decided that he quite liked Bilbo. While the Hobbit was extremely proper and fussed over the smallest of things, he was incredibly kind. He also seemed to genuinely love to tell stories (which Harry was happy for because he learned more and more of this odd place). Harry liked the man's welcoming gestures and how he actually seemed to care for even strangers.

Bilbo quite liked Harry James too. He might have been odd with his garments and glasses (as he'd explained) and his odd way of speaking but the boy was a guest that Bilbo didn't mind entertaining. He listened to every story that Bilbo told him with childish excitement and he was ever so careful and helpful.

As the sun had completely set and Bilbo rushed around to prepare the dinner, Harry asked,

"Do you mind if pay Rosie a visit?"

He was very curious about the Hobbit and thought that it was the perfect time to give Bilbo some peace and quiet, certain that his day had been quite hectic as it was.

"Of course," Bilbo said, "It's right at the bottom of the hill, the one with the red door."

Thanking him, Harry rose and walked towards the door. Only to be stopped by the Hobbit's exclamation.

"What is it?" Harry asked,

Bilbo looked affronted, "Well it is horribly cold outside and you've not got a cloak!"

"I'll be fine," Harry replied, attempting to reassure the Hobbit.

"No," Bilbo marched to the door and picked up a cloak from the trunk by the wall, "This ought to do the trick. You're not too much taller than I am."

Thanking the Hobbit, Harry threw the cloak over his shoulder and began his walk down the hill.

Most of the Hobbits that had originally been rushing around were now all inside the houses.

Just as Harry was making his way to turn by the houses, something pushed by him,

"Watch where you're going boy!" a gruff voice called,

Harry spun to face a man who while slightly taller than the Hobbits was still quite short (and his feet were quite normal sized).

"I'm not the one who ran into you," Harry spat,

The man only spared him a glare before continuing up the hill. Harry felt sorry for whoever had to entertain that pain in the arse.

Just as Harry reached the red painted door, he was greeted by Rosie, who was sitting on the grass in front of it, "You are late."

Choosing to ignore that comment, Harry slid down onto the grass next to her.

"How-"

"Do I know who you are?" Rosie asked, a far off look on her face.

It reminded Harry oddly of Luna Lovegood.

"Yeah, that." Harry said.

Rosie seemed to think for a few minutes before finally, she said, "Do you believe that Lady Luck hates you, my dear?"

"Definitely," Harry grumbled,

A small smile danced on Rosie's lips, "Consider this my apology then."

As Harry's head snapped to stare at the woman, Rosie let out a tinkling laugh, "Surely you didn't think me to just be a Hobbit! No mortal could convince Bilbo Baggins to let a completely strange looking boy into his home. He's more of a Baggins than a Took… at this particular moment."

"And...if I want to go back home?" Harry asked,

"Well then, I've got a portkey waiting for you. Guarded by a dragon in Erebor."

Harry pursed his lips and glared at the Hobbit, "You know, this is a bloody awful apology."

"Think of it an adventure," Rosie beamed.

"Or a death sentence."

"Quit being so...depressing."

"It's quite hard to do when the only options you've given me are to die here by dragon fire, or die at the hands of Voldemort." Harry grumbled,

They sat in silence for a while, until Rosie said, "I think Bilbo needs you to swoop in and rescue him now."

-x-

As Harry pushed the green door open, he was bombarded by the sound of burping and screaming and laughing. As Harry slowly walked towards the dining room, he was surprised to see many men (in bulky armor like the one who'd shoved him) eating all the food that poor Bilbo had.

They were screaming and burping and were absolutely disgusting.

He could only imagine what Hermione would have thought because at this particular moment, they were a great deal messier than Ron ever was.

Bilbo caught his eye and quickly rushed over, "I assure you that I usually do not have such unbecoming company."

Waving off the Hobbit, Harry asked, "Did you invite them?"

Grumbling something under his breath, Bilbo turned to glare at the man in grey robes that reminded Harry of Dumbledore, "That would be Gandalf."

"Gandalf?"

"The wandering grey wizard, surely you've heard of his fireworks?" Bilbo asked, his eyes glued to the messy table.

"Not quite." Harry growled before stomping over to the wizard.

Harry had quite had it with old wizards who meddled in things that didn't concern them and drag people into their stupid problems. And Bilbo was far too gentle for such a thing.

Gandalf turned to the strange boy with bright green eyes, "And who are you?"

"The only one who was invited into this house," Harry frowned, "The real question is, what the blasted hell are you thinking?"

Gandalf raised a bushy brow at the boy's harsh tone, "Have we met before?"

While Harry wanted to give the Wizard a change, he resembled Albus Dumbledore too much for Harry to let down his guard.

"Lucky for me, no."

Harry stiffened as he felt magic darting out from the old man's staff. It fluttered around him, barely brushing against him before returning to flutter and dance around him.

"Stop that!" Harry hissed,

As soon as the words left his mouth, the magic retreated to the staff once more and Gandalf's eyes twinkled in that way that made Harry quite certain that he would not like where this would be going.

"If I didn't know any better, I would say you have Magic."

Harry frowned, "No matter what you say, it doesn't concern _you_ in the slightest."

Suddenly, all the laughing and singing stopped. Curious, Harry turned to look at Bilbo who looked just as baffled as he was. It was only then that Gandalf said, "He's here."

As everyone rushed to the door, Bilbo opened it, only to find himself staring at a man with long brown hair and a scraggly beard. He wore armor and had a large sword with him. Easy to say that he looked intimidating.

"This is the Hobbit?" He asked in a gruff voice, "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar."

Harry was fuming.  
The nerve of these people!


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Just a few things:**

**-First of all, it has come to my attention that a fanfic was created with similar first chapters as mine. I've spoken to the author and we have decided that as long as the fanfic "****An Adventure of of a Lost Witch" differs from now on, there will be no problem.**

**-To answer a question, this is going to be slash. As for the pairings, I have yet to decide. Harry x Thorin maybe...or Harry x… whoever.**

**-Harry's age in the fanfic is 15. This fanfiction takes place in the summer after fourth year.**

"Thorin Oakenshield, at your service." The man said, staring down at Bilbo.

Harry wanted to point out that he wasn't doing much of a service by insulting his host. And his company hadn't done much service by destroying Bilbo's home either.

"Dwarves," Bilbo mumbled shaking his head, "Everywhere."

So that's what they are, Harry thought.

He had assumed they were short men… of course none of them were quite as short as Professor Flitwick, but mind you he was part-goblin.

Shaking his head, Harry turned his attention back to the scene that was playing out before him.

As Harry was about to stomp over and give the man er...Dwarf a piece of his mind (and probably hex him as well), a large hand curled around his arm.

Craning his neck, Harry glared at the Dwarf who was holding him back.

The Dwarf peered down at him curiously, as though he had never seen someone like him before. He had brown hair that fell in loose waves down to his shoulders, but unlike the other Dwarves in the room, he had no beard, only light traces of stubble.

"Nothing you say will help in this situation," He whispered, quite certain from the angry look on Harry's face that he was going to say something that would anger his uncle. And from Harry's fragile frame, Harry didn't look like he would stand a chance against an angry bird, much less an angry Dwarf.

Harry yanked his arm out of the Dwarf's grasp, only to have his other one grabbed by another hand. This Dwarf was slightly shorter, with blonde hair and braids hanging down from both ends of his mustache.

But Harry could tell that the two were related. Yanking his arm from the dwarf's grasp, Harry scowled when the Dwarf cast his brother an exasperated look.

He then leaned down and mumbled, "He is not wrong, stranger. I'm sure the wee Hobbit doesn't need to be rescued."

"Then you know nothing," Harry grumbled, "Why in Merlin's name are you all here anyways?"

"To get our burglar, of course." The dark haired one said.

"Why would you need one?" Harry asked, deciding not to mention that Bilbo didn't look like he could steal or would steal anything. And frankly, from the time that Harry had spent with Bilbo, he was quite certain that Bilbo would never dream of stealing anything, the man was just far too innocent.

So innocent in fact that he hadn't kicked these Dwarves out on their arses as soon as they tried to enter his house (which Harry would have supported wholeheartedly due to the damage they had caused to Bilbo's beautiful home.)

He didn't get an answer though because the Dwarves started to shuffle into the dining room once more. Fingers curling around the wand in his pocket, Harry pushed through them, blocking the door.

"No. Absolutely not." Harry growled, blocking the entrance to the dining room as best as he could with his small body, "Get back!"

"Now, now," Gandalf said as he began to advance towards the boy (while pushing a glaring Thorin Oakenshield behind him), "That isn't very nice, is it?"

Harry's magic lashed out, forcefully shoving the old wizard back along with the few Dwarves who had chosen to follow Gandalf's lead and had begun advancing. Harry's fingers loosened around his wand and it fell from his grasp.

His magic didn't act so recklessly.

His magic was not this forceful and powerful.

This entire world (or dimension) seemed to be filled with magic, and when his emotions became unmanageable, the surrounding magic seemed to work with his own in an effort to protect him from whatever it believed to be dangerous.

"Harry," Bilbo asked with a note of concern, "Are you feeling well?"

Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, Harry gave his friend a reassuring smile before turning to face Gandalf.

"What isn't nice Gandalf, is barging into someone's house uninvited and then destroying their home. Now, you are not welcome into the dining room… or any room until you bloody apologise. And trust me, if you do not," Harry announced in an unsettlingly calm voice, " I'm going to shove your staff up your arse."

There were mixed reactions from the Dwarves; the oldest of them sent disapproving and disbelieving glares at Harry while the younger ones attempted to stifle their laughter at Harry's words.

"It's… okay." Bilbo spoke, breaking the uneasy silence. Giving Harry an appreciative smile, he turned to face Thorin, "The damage has already been done, please...come in."

To the surprise of many, as soon as Bilbo had spoken, Harry knelt down, picked up his wand and then stood to the side, allowing everyone to enter the dining room.

Bilbo was the last to enter the dining room, and turned to Harry as he was entering, "Are you coming?"

There was a hopeful tone in his voice that made Harry smile at him as he shook his head, "If you don't mind, I was hoping to look at the maps you've got in the other room."

"Of course not," Bilbo said with a frown that betrayed his uneasiness as the thought of entering the room without Harry's company, "Have you… decided where you want to go?"

"Trying to get rid of me?" Harry laughed before becoming serious, "I think Rosie's chosen for me to be honest."

Bilbo nodded, taking a step into the dining room before turning back to look at Harry, raising a finger before dropping it.

"Go ahead, ask." Harry said, watching the Hobbit.

"Was that… magic?" Bilbo asked, "Are you an Istari?"

Sighing, Harry decided that technically, Bilbo was not a muggle and he doubted that the Ministry had any power here.

Otherwise, his accidental magic would have earned him another one of those… lovely letters from the Ministry.

"It was magic, but it was different magic." Harry admitted, "Now go on. You've got dwarves to entertain and I have maps to look at."

Nodding, Bilbo walked into the dining room (albeit reluctantly) whilst Harry made his way to the other room. Grabbing a few maps that had "Middle Earth" written on them, he spread them out on top of the table.

Harry's eyes trailed along the map, searching for Erebor. When he finally found it near Mirkwood, he tried to find the Shire. Harry flinched at the distance. Without his broom, this could take forever.

And on top of that, he didn't have the proper attire or money that he would need for the long journey.

Harry wasn't quite sure how long he had been thinking about his situation, it was only when he heard a loud noise from the other room that he rose and walked into the other room.

Bilbo lay collapsed on the floor, a piece of long parchment in his hand.

With a bored expression, Harry's eyes turned to the table surrounded by Dwarves and a Wizard (all of whom were staring at Harry, waiting for his reaction.).

"I don't know what happened. And at this point, I am afraid to ask." Harry mumbled,

"We were just telling him about the dragon," A dwarf with a strange hat and even stranger beard said.

"And how did you word this?"

"Flash of light, searing pain, then Poof! you're nothing more than a pile of ash. I believe that is what you said, brother." A much larger dwarf with ginger hair said helpfully,

Harry blinked owlishly at the company before him, unable to understand how lightly they spoke about a dragon. Even in the Wizarding World, Dragons weren't taken as a light threat, the damage they could cause was magnificent… in a horrible way.

"To whom would that...no. Just no." Harry said, "Bilbo's reaction is entirely justified."

And then Harry recalled his earlier conversation with the brothers.

A dragon.

They wanted to steal from a dragon...no! They wanted Bilbo to steal from a dragon.

How absurd.

"Are you an Istari?"

Harry looked up to glance at the person who'd questioned him. It was a dwarf who was much smaller than the others, he looked to be one of the younger ones.

"Oh um… Ori at your service." the Dwarf added,

"Harry Potter, um at yours," Harry replied, "And Istari… is that like a Wizard? If so then yes."

"So you're like Gandalf?" The beardless Dwarf asked,

"No dear Kili, our magic is… different." Gandalf said, gazing at Harry.

"Different how?" Harry asked,

"Well, how would I know?" Gandalf asked, with a frown, "It seems we will find out."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, you'll be joining the company, obviously." Gandalf said, as though it was the simplest thing in the world. And it might have been, were it not for the matching looks of disgust that both Thorin and Harry were wearing.

"I asked you to find a burglar, Gandalf. Not a twig." Thorin protested,

"And I asked you to leave me alone," Harry began before glancing at Thorin, "not make decisions for me."

"Now, now," Gandalf shushed the protesting duo, "Your destination is the same."

"No."  
"Never."

-x-

"Obviously you've never been on a pony before," Thorin grumbled as he saw Harry struggle to stay on the pony.

Gripping the reins with all his might, Harry glared at Thorin, "Never needed to before."

Thorin could only bear a few more seconds of Harry fidgeting and struggling before he grumbled and reached over, curling his hand around Harry's thin wrist.

"Stop holding it like you're trying to strangle the reins."

When Harry obeyed, loosening his grasp slightly, Thorin push his arm down so that they hung in a relaxed manner. Both men opted to ignore the amused glances of the company behind them.

"Your friend has not come." Thorin said after a few seconds.

Frowning, Harry thought. He was quite sure that Bilbo shouldn't come, but whether or not he would… well that was a different story altogether.

Bilbo did everything he could to help. He was kind.

To a fault.

"Wait!"

Slowing down, Harry tilted his head to find none other than Bilbo running up to catch up with the company, a long piece of parchment in his hand. Harry laughed as he saw pouches being thrown around as Bilbo was lifted onto a pony.

"Wait! Stop! We have to go back." Bilbo cried from his place at the back of the company, "I've forgotten my handkerchief."

Harry stifled a smile at the disgusted expression on Bilbo's face when one of the Dwarves threw him a ripped piece of filthy cloth.

Slowing down until he was riding next to Bilbo, Harry smiled, "It is good to see you."

Bilbo gave Harry a small smile, "I thought you'd had a plan."

"So did I," Harry sighed.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:**

**I don't want to make Harry useless, but at the same time he's awful young and to top it off, the school year before, he let Voldemort come back. He's a 14 year old who knows basic magic. He isn't the war hardened hero yet.**

**He won't be useless, but he won't be waving his wand and riding dinosaurs into battle.**

**Thorin will also still be a jackass for a while, there is a reason for it though.**

**Finally pairing, who would you guys like? The only pairing I refuse to write is Harry with an elf...because come one, with so many awesome Dwarves, who needs elves?**

As they set up camp, Harry was silently observing the company.

The Dwarves were so at ease, even when they knew that their journey wasn't going to be safe. They seemed to enjoy each other's company, they were like a family.

And whether consciously or not, they made it quite clear (for all their carefree ways) that Harry and Bilbo were not a part of that family.

Hearing a loud screech coming from the forest, Harry's fingers curled around his wand.

He didn't like this. At least at Hogwarts, he could sleep without the fear of being mauled by a rabid dog… well aside from third year.

But well...Sirius wasn't exactly a rabid dog.

Just a dog.

"Orcs?" Bilbo asked, curling into himself.

The brothers who sat on either side of them shared a mischievous look before they started to tell stories to scare Bilbo. From their tone, Harry knew that they were exaggerating and it reminded him of Fred and George convincing Ron that to get sorted into a Hogwarts house, you'd need to fight a monster.

"Enough!" Thorin growled, silencing the boys.

"We didn't mean it," the blond one said, obviously distressed by his Uncle's reaction.

"Of course not, you know nothing of the world." Thorin sneered, walking away.

The brothers looked so put out that Harry actually felt for them. They seemed to really want their Uncle's acceptance.

Harry didn't know that feeling.

His Aunt and Uncle had quite early on made it quite clear that Harry would never get their approval.

"Don't mind him boys, Thorin has got more reason that most to hate Orcs." Balin said,

_And Dragons,_ Harry thought, but silently listened to the story of the King Under the Mountain.

-x-

"Are we there yet?" Harry asked Gandalf, for the tenth time in the last minute.

Glancing at Thorin's smirk, Harry could tell that Thorin knew that he was doing this _just_ to annoy the grey wizard. And from the frown on the older man's face, it was working.

"We were not there ten seconds ago, and we are not there now. And we will _not_ be there anytime soon." Gandalf grumbled, adjusting his weight on his horse.

" , can't you do something about this deluge?" A dwarf asked Gandalf, as Harry fell in pace with Bilbo again,

"It is raining, Master Dwarf," Gandalf sighed, "and it will continue to rain until the rain is done. If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another wizard."

It was instantaneous.

Every Dwarf (besides Thorin, who Harry assumed was just too bloody magnificent to care, and Balin) turned to glance at Harry.

Clearing his throat, Harry said, "I'm sure there is a spell."

"Then why don't you use it,?" Ori asked shyly, wiping rain droplets off his face with his sleeve.

"I said that I'm sure there is a spell," Harry repeated, "Not that I know it."

"Are there any?" Bilbo asked, before any Dwarf could complain, "Other Wizards, I mean."

"There are five of us. The greatest of our order is Saruman, the White. Then there are the two Blue wizards; you know, I've quite forgotten their names."

Thinking over it quickly, Bilbo pointed out, "And the fifth?"

Gandalf's bushy eyebrows drew together as he thought, "That'll be Radagast, the Brown."

"Is he a great wizard, or is he more like you?" Bilbo asked,

Harry's hand shot up to cover his mouth in an attempt to stifle his laughter because Bilbo seemed completely unaware that he'd offended the older wizard.  
"I think he's a very great wizard, in his own way. He's a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals to others. He keeps a watchful eye over the vast forest lands to the East, and a good thing too, for always Evil will look to find a foothold in this world."

A frown tugged at Harry's lips as he listened to Gandalf speak. The forest he spoke of sounded like the Forbidden Forest outside of Hogwarts, and for the first time, Harry wanted to be there.

Because at least it was close to home.

It was close to his friends.

As Harry remembered home, his eyes began to droop and Harry allowed the sound of rain to lull him to sleep.

"_Come on Harry," Hermione chided, swatting at his arm as Harry and Ron were doubled over laughing._

_They were sitting under the shade of one of the trees near the forest, and Hermione cradled a book close to her chest, a frown on her face, "You promised!"_

_Ron smiled, "Exactly, he promised. Why do I have to listen?"_

"_Because that's what friends do." Harry said, refusing to be the only one forced to listen to Hermione's favorite story. For all Harry knew, it could be a huge and boring book._

_Rolling his eyes, Ron laughed out, "The last time I listened to a story, I was eight and Mum read me The Tales of Beedle the Bard." _

_Smacking Ron acrossed the head, Hermione said, "This isn't a bedtime story, you git!"_

_Raising his hands in surrender, Ron said, "Fine, fine. Read on."_

_Hermione glanced at her two friends who were struggling to hide their smiles before sighing and flipping the book open, _

" _In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort. It had a …"_

_As Hermione read the story of Dwarves and Wizards and Hobbits, both boys listened intently, holding onto every word._

Just as Hermione read the part where the Dwarves were setting camp and the Wizard left, Harry shot up. Harry's eyes opened, and the first thing he registered was that it was nighttime.

His dream came back to him, and Harry frowned.

How curious.

Pulling himself up, Harry realized that the group must have made camp. And from the food, and fire and bags on the ground, Harry was certain that his theory was correct.

The only flaw in his theory was that there were no Dwarves.

Anywhere.

Pulling his wand out, Harry began walking towards the forest without a second thought.

Hearing the familiar loud voices of the Dwarves, Harry sped off in a run, occasionally stumbling over a root as he ran through the darkness towards the small light he could see through the trees. As Harry neared the voices (and light source), he froze.

They were large.

They were tall and hideous.

And there were three of them looming over a bumbling Bilbo.

Trolls.

As Harry neared the scene, his fingers curled a little bit tighter around his wand as he searched his brain for a spell. And he came back blank. For all his Magic, he couldn't remember a spell he'd learned in the last four years that he could use. A single spell would only take out one of the Trolls.

A feeling of dread bubbled in Harry's chest as he felt as useless as he had during the Goblet of fire, his eyes remained on Bilbo.

A small, smile slipped onto Harry's face as he realized that Bilbo wasn't blubbering nonsense, he was stalling.

But for what?

As Bilbo's eyes flitted to the side towards the rising sun, Harry's eyes widened in shock.

Maybe the Trolls here were… different.

Raising his wand, remembering the spell that Hermione had used in their first year, Harry hissed, "Lumos Solem!"

As sunlight leaked out of his wand, Harry watched in thinly veiled shock as the creatures began to stiffen before turning into stone.

Stumbling out from his hiding place, Harry ran towards Bilbo, "That was great thinking!"

Bilbo, who was staring at the Trolls in shock, turned his head to face Harry, a small, uneasy smile on his face, "Thanks. That was great...um magic."

"Boy, let us down!" growled a Dwarf who was tied up over the fire and working up quite the sweat.

Blushing, Harry turned his head to face the fire, "Aguamenti,"

As Harry rushed to help the Dwarves down, he was aware of a certain Wizard slinking into the clearing.

"What happened here?" Gandalf demanded,

"I'll tell you what happened," Thorin grumbled, stomping over to Gandalf, "Your burglar nearly got us killed!"

Harry's eyes narrowed as he saw Bilbo's face fall, and with a glare, Harry said, "Last time I checked, he was the only one trying to do anything, while the rest of you were bloody getting ready to die!"

Shoving Harry away from him, Thorin snarled, "Hold your tongue, boy. I've had enough of you."

"Or else what? Will you cut it out?" Harry asked, his magic lashing out, "Is that the kind of king you are?"


	5. Chapter 5

"Is that the kind of king you are?"

Silence.

You could hear a pin drop as Harry hissed. The Dwarfs were all staring with wide eyes, shocked at the boy's words. The only sound that was heard was the sound of Harry's own magic manipulating the magic in the air around it, whipping it around his form in a threatening manner, prepared the shove back the angry king.

Only the king wasn't angry.

Or at least, not that Harry could tell. Instead of the scowl he wore so often, a smirk danced on his lips.

"If you give me reason enough." Thorin said simply, eyes glued to Harry's own, making Harry's magic hiss and claw inside of him, feeling very much threatened under the king's cold gaze.

At Harry's wide eyes, Thorin hissed, "I'm not a fool, Boy. If I try to teach you your place now, your magic will kill me. And I'm not pathetic enough to need to slit your throat in your sleep. But know this, you could have been a king in your world, but in this one, you are nothing. And so long as you are here, you will be nothing. The only reason that you are allowed to accompany us is because Gandalf thinks you worthy. And yet you spit and snarl at him like a brat every time he tries to speak with you. So take my advice boy, get off your high horse before I yank you down, and tear you limb from limb."

Shoving by the boy, Thorin Oakenshield stalked into the Trolls' cave. Slowly beginning to look around the cave, Thorin relaxed as the other members of his company began to follow his lead and turned their attention back to the treasures that the cave held.

Save for one dwarf who walked over to the young Wizard.

"Doesn't feel too good, does it?"

Glancing up, Harry was surprised to see the blond Dwarf...Fili, staring down at him.  
"What?" Harry asked, attempting to reign in his magic.

Glancing back at the cave, Fili said, "Uncle's anger. Before you say anything, I saw you staring yesterday, when Uncle reprimanded my brother and I. Perhaps now you understand why we were so shaken?"

"Your Uncle is quick to anger," Harry said, thinking carefully as he spoke, as not to offend the only Dwarf who'd probably talk to him from now on, "that is not a trait...one would expect a king to have."

Giving the boy a small smile, Fili shook his head, "My Uncle has lost a lot an-"

"So have others!" Harry protested,

Giving the boy a tiny shove, Fili said, "You did not let me finish. My Uncle has lost a lot and blames himself. His throne has been taken and his crown shattered. He will do everything to protect those who stood beside him. He wants the best for his people. What more can you ask of a king?"

"Not ripping tongues out?" Harry scoffed,

"Technically, you gave him the suggestion. He merely considered it." Fili smirked, shaking Harry's already messy hair, "If it makes you feel better, Uncle wouldn't kill you. We don't hurt _children."_

Harry scoffed, "I'm not a child!"

"How old are you, ten summers?"

"Fifteen, actually."

"You're practically a babe." Fili snickered,

Bristling, Harry mumbled, "And you're practically a twat."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"It's really no-"

The sound of feet...or paws crushing twigs echoed through the forest, causing the group to band together, the dwarves creating a circle, with Harry and Bilbo in the center.

"Something is coming," Thorin hissed, (And Harry bit back a "No shite.")

Just as Thorin finished speaking, A flurry of green shot into the clearing, "Thieves! Fire! Murder!"

It was a man...and quite a short one. Though Harry wasn't one to say anything about someone else being short...and not that the man was short in comparison to most of the company, but Harry couldn't help but find it amusing as Gandalf towered over the man. Though, he quickly quieted himself when he realised that he ought to look just as foolish next to Gandalf.

"Radagast! Radagast the Brown, what are you doing here?"

Rolling his eyes, Harry mumbled, "Did the _thieves, fire and murder_ bit not give it away?"

The Dwarf closest to Harry (Kili, Harry guessed) shook with poorly contained laughter, being the only one who'd heard Harry's sarcastic hiss.

Turning his attention back to the two Wizards, Harry saw Radagast reach into his mouth and pull out a stick insect. With a foul look, Harry leaned into Bilbo and whispered, "To answer your earlier question...I believe he's worse than Gandalf."

"And I thought it impossible," Bilbo grimaced, as Gandalf and Radagast began whispering to each other.

As Harry opened his mouth to reply, a sharp howl silenced him.

"Is that a wolf? Are there wolves out there?" Bilbo asked,

"Dear Merlin, tell me that was a wolf." Harry whispered,

A Dwarf with a funny hat, Bofur if Harry recalled correctly, shook his head, "Wolves? No, that is not a wolf."

Suddenly, a creature lept from the green, and Harry was reminded of Remus' werewolf incident last year, where he hadn't any control and was like a wild animal. Only this wild animal was quickly struck down by Thorin.

From the other side of the group, Harry heard the sound of an arrow piercing flesh and then something metal tearing through skin. Turning around just in time to see another fallen creature, Harry frowned, pushing away the disgust he felt.

As Gandalf cornered Thorin, Harry's eyes met Radagast's and the Wizard's eyes grew comically wide.

"Iston i nîf gîn."[1] Radagast mumbled, "Prestad?" [2]

Harry shook his head, "I cannot understand you."

A large hand curled around Harry's arm, pulling him back.

Glancing up, Harry found Gandalf shaking his head at Radagast, who shook his own head as though to clear his thoughts before saying, "I'll draw them off."

"Those are Gundobad Wargs; they will outrun you." Gandalf protested, worry etched on his face.

It was the look that reminded Harry that Gandalf was not Dumbledore, for Harry had never seen nor heard Dumbledore worry for anyone other than himself.

A small smirk slid onto Radagast's face, and he cast a wink at Harry before he said, "These are Rhosgobel Rabbits, I'd like to see them try."

As Radagast (and his rabbits) sped off, gaining the attention of Wargs and the Orcs, the company slipped out the other way, led by Gandalf.

It was a game of cat and mouse, one that Harry didn't like considering that he and the company were the mice. As they ran through the clearing, only barely missing the Wargs, Harry could hear his heart beating loudly in his ears, and for a moment, he feared the Wargs would hear it as well.

And it got louder.

And louder.

Until it was all he heard, demanding his attention, clawing at his sanity.

"Av-'osto,"[3] A soft voice rang through the sound of his heartbeat.

And when Harry looked up, he was no longer in the clearing. Instead, he was in a hall that seemed to stretch on forever, and on the walls hung beautiful long tapestries. Only Harry wasn't looking at the hall, he was too busy staring at the man before him.

The man before him was beautiful… and beautiful was the only word that could describe the man before him. He wasn't handsome, the word sounded too wrong when describing this man. With long raven hair (much darker than his own), blue eyes, pointed ears and a lithe build, the man looked ethereal.

Realizing that he was gaping, Harry shook his head, "I can't… I don't understand."

A confused look crossed the man's face, before he tilted his head to the side, "Pedig edhellen?"[4]

"Um...English?" Harry asked,

Understanding dawned on the man as he shook his head in a very human manner, which Harry believed did not become him in the slightest, "I apologise, it has been too long. I have forgotten that you do not understand Elvish, nor Valarin."

"Forgotten?" Harry asked, entirely baffled, "Have we...met?"  
"Yes." The man said simply,

"When?" Harry demanded, "Where am I?"

"Home,"

Glancing up at the man, Harry asked, "Whose home?"

"Mine," the man smiled,

"And you are?"

Tilting his head, not upset by Harry's anger and confusion in the slightest, the man said, "I am Irmo and you have called me."

Fingers curling around his wand, Harry asked, "When did I do that?"

"In your dreams. The darkest of them. They plagued you at night, of the soulless man."

Bristling at the mention of Voldemort, Harry snarled, "And you took that as a bloody calling card?"

"Naturally,"

"Wait...dreams. Did you have anything to do with my weird dream last night?" Harry asked, running a hand through his hair.

"It was not I that wove your dreams. Something much darker has taken an interest in you." Irmo frowned, his eyes darkening.

"Voldemort?" Harry asked,

"The soulless one has no power here." Irmo started, "My brother and I have watched over you for a long time. We have stood behind you in your time of need, and now it is us who are in need of your help."

"What _kind_ of help?" Harry asked sceptically,

"Your dreams will weave the path for you. You will know of what is to pass. We require of you an object that one in your company will come to find."

"That's all?" Harry asked, and at Irmo's nod, Harry sighed, "Fine. Can you zap me back now?"

Harry resisted the urge to move back as Irmo walked closer to him, kneeling when he was in front of him to be able to look Harry in the eyes.

A hand shot forward and brushed Harry's hair away from his forehead, a frown dancing on the man's beautiful face, "Should you succeed, my wife wishes to heal you, and to rid you of the taint that claims your soul."

As Irmo spoke, his voice was lulling Harry to sleep, and in a dazed tone Harry asked, "W..what.. tain-"

"Echuio,"[5]

Harry's eyes snapped open and the first thing he noticed was that he was on a bed. A very comfy one at that. And the second thing he noticed was that a man was hovering over him.

He too was beautiful, with pointed ears and dark hair, just like Irmo. Only his beauty didn't compare to Irmo's, though he did outshine any human that Harry had ever met.

The man smiled as Harry stared up at him, "Iston i nîf gîn." [1]

"What?" Harry asked,

Shaking his head, the man said, "Welcome, . To the House of Rivendell."

Translations:

[1]"Iston i nîf gîn."- I know your face.

[2]"Prestad?" - Is there trouble?

[3]"Av-'osto," - Don't be afraid.

[4]"Pedig edhellen?" - Do you speak Elvish?

[5]"Echuio," - Wake up,

Author's Note: So it's finally picking up and Harry's met the Valar...or one of them. As for him being related to any of the Valar, I'm not too certain on that yet. I also want to explain that I'm not often one for Dumbledore bashing, but it will fit into the plot so...it's here.

One final question before I end this author's note, any of you got an idea as to why Elrond and Radagast 'know Harry's face'?


	6. Chapter 6

"Echuio,"[1]

Harry's eyes snapped open and the first thing he noticed was that he was on a bed. A very comfy one at that. And the second thing he noticed was that a man was hovering over him.

He too was beautiful, with pointed ears and dark hair, just like Irmo. Only his beauty didn't compare to Irmo's, though he did outshine any human that Harry had ever met.

The man smiled as Harry stared up at him, "Iston i nîf gîn." [2]

"What?" Harry asked,

Shaking his head, the man said, "Welcome, Mister Potter. To the House of Rivendell."

As Harry pulled himself up, a scream escaped his lips as a sharp pain shot up his leg. Throwing the covers away from his leg with shaking hands, Harry flinched.

Claw marks trailed up the side of his left leg, and while Harry was certain that they were fresh, they had already begun to heal.

"You awoke before I was able to properly heal your wound," Elrond explained, reaching forward to guide Harry back to his earlier position on the bed but as his hand grazed Harry's shoulder, he yanked his arm back as though he had been burned.

Offering Harry an apologetic smile, Elrond motioned to the bed, "If you lay down, I may continue to heal it."

With a sigh, Harry began to lay back down on the bed slowly, a wince being the only sign of his discomfort, "How did I get this?"

"According to the Dwarves, you froze when you saw a warg. In fear or shock, they had assumed. Were it not for Gandalf, your injuries would have been far fouler and your problems would be worse than a scar." Elrond said as he worked, and Harry couldn't help but notice how his voice sounded so beautiful and gentle.

"I don't remember that," Harry said, with a shake of his head,

With a small smile, Elrond said, "And nor does Gandalf. What do you believe happened?"

"Irmo," Harry croaked, "I had a headache...and I met a man, his name was Irmo."

Recognition, or something of the like flashed in Elrond's eyes, not missed by Harry who asked, "Do you know him?"

"Of him," Elrond said, moving away from Harry, "And so do many others. He is one of the Valar."

Pulling himself up to sit on the bed, Harry whispered a "Thank you," to Elrond when there was no more blinding pain, "Who are the Valar?"

"They were the Ainur who entered Arda after its creation to give order to the world." Elrond said, putting away his instruments before turning to Harry, "You require rest. Please, lay down."

Grumbling, Harry eased back down, very well aware of the fact that the man before him was trying his hardest to not have to touch Harry.

After a few moments of uneasy silence, Elrond said, "Gandalf has assured me that you are not as you once were."

"What does that even mean?" Harry asked, his voice rising an octave in confusion.

Glancing around him in worry as Harry's magic leaked from his being and began to pool around the room, Elrond demanded, "Man cerig?" [3]

His voice no longer was soft and kind, instead there was a hint of fear in his voice as he regarded Harry as one would a wild animal. Forcibly pulling his magic back into him, Harry realised that this man, unlike the Dwarves was not as comfortable around his magic.

"Av-'osto, Lord Elrond,"[4] A firm voice called from beside Harry, a large hand coming down to grip the boy's shoulder in a reassuring manner.

As the hand met Harry's shoulder, Harry's magic drew back into him with ease. And when Harry glanced up, he was surprised to see Gandalf smiling comfortingly down at him.

It was only Elrond's harsh tone that made the duo's eyes snap back to the man watching Harry in distrust, "Gwestog, Mithrandir?" [5]

"Yes," Gandalf nodded, "Now, would you mind giving young Harry and I a minute?"

With a small nod towards Gandalf, Elrond bowed his head slightly towards Harry.

"Forgive me for my harshness, your magic is strange to us."with a glance at Gandalf, he continued, "It is a bad omen, even in these times of peace. But your control over it lessens my unease."

Harry stared at the door blankly, for quite a few moments after Elrond's departure. Being the boy who lived, he was used to odd reactions when people met him, excitement, hatred, jealousy were all things he'd seen before. But never fear. Not like this.

"He was afraid of me," Harry whispered, craning his head to glance at Gandalf, "Will there be more like him?"

Gandalf's bushy eyebrows drew closer together as they stared down at the boy before him, "Many more like him. Does that alarm you?"  
"Not as much as it should," Harry admitted, shifting on the bed, "When can I leave here?"

Gandalf laughed heartily as he slid down on the chair beside the bed, "Not any time soon. But perhaps I can tell you about something you'd like to know?"

Humming, Harry slid back down on the bed, angling his body so that he was looking at Gandalf and said, "Tell me about the Wizards...what did the Dwarves call them again? The Istari?"

Leaning back, Gandalf began, " The Istari are Maiar, sent to maintain order on Middle Earth. Five Istari who bore the form of elderly men…"

-x-

"...and finally there is Alatar, otherwise known as Morinehtar the Blue." Gandalf said,

A peaceful silence settled in the room as Gandalf finished, the only sound that could be heard was of Harry's even breathing. It was only when Harry slept that Gandalf was reminded of how young the boy was. Not even of age, and yet so hardened.

"He had fallen asleep quite early on in your story, Mithrandir." A musical voice called from the door.

Gandalf hummed without turning his head to glance at the newcomer, "Good evening, Lord Glorfindel."

"And to you, Mithrandir." The blond elf nodded as he glided into the room.

His blue eyes scanned the room slowly before they settled on the form of the boy nestled under the blankets. With a small smile, Glorfindel asked, "This is the boy that strikes fear in the heart of the brave Lord Elrond? He is but a babe, even in the eyes of his kin."

Gandalf snorted with a frown, "It is not Lord Elrond's heart which fears the boy, merely his mind."

"Nonetheless," Glorfindel said, kneeling by the boy, "I heard rumors that you wished to train him and came to suggest weapons to you. I was going to suggest a warhammer or a sword or perhaps a spear...but looking upon him I see that they would be larger than he… perhaps a bow would better suit him?"

"No, no." Gandalf shook his head, "His magic would aid him far better for long distances than any weapon in this world."

Glorfindel cast the Istari a soft glare, "But the more he uses his Magic, the faster he shall fall."

"And what makes you think that he will fall at all?"

"The hearts of men are so easily corrupted," Glorfindel explained, "If su-"

Gandalf's fingers curled harshly around his staff as he glared down at the elf kneeling so close to Harry. His own power threatening to spill, "So we must take heed not to corrupt his. The fearful way your people stare at him will corrupt him faster than any magic. Radagast agrees with me, it is not trouble he brings, but a way to end it."

"My people?" Glorfindel frowned as he drew himself up, "The Dwarves know not who travels with them?"

"A child," Gandalf said calmly, shushing the elf before he woke the sleeping boy, "A child travels with them. He is not… his heart is pure. If such was not true, he could never have met with Irmo."

Glorfindel's eyes widened in shock for a moment, "What an odd turn of events. Crafted by darkness and guided by dreams."

Glorfindel gazed down at the sleeping boy. He was small, even for one his age from what Glorfindel could tell. With hair as dark as night and yet, from what he had heard from Lord Elrond, eyes so green that they put nature to shame.

Only a select few would be able to sense the taints on his soul. The first taint was not of this world. It was evil and dark but sickeningly so. Having latched itself onto the boy to be close to the pure darkness he housed within him. It was a greedy and foul parasite, powered by an alien sort of magic.

The second taint was not alien, this taint belong to him. It was dark, darker than night, darker than death… and yet so pure because it belonged to the boy. Fitting inside him perfectly, it was raw power. Untrained, beautiful energy begging to be released but remaining dormant until it was needed.

Glorfindel found it strange how something so dark and foul could be so beautiful, how something so destructive could give its human host the power it needed to exist in this world.

Unlike Lord Elrond, Glorfindel could accept that while the boy possessed these taints, they did not define him. And if the Istari believed him to be no threat, then he would accept their decision.

"I shall take my leave, Mithrandir," Glorfindel nodded with one final glance at the boy, "I hope you are right."

"Wait," Gandalf called, pulling himself up from the chair, "I believe he is safe here, I shall leave him to his dreams."

As the two walked out, neither were aware of how the boy's eyebrows scrunched together and droplets of sweat started to form on his skin as his dreams wove themselves into something much darker.

-x- dream -x-

_Long fingers danced through Harry's hair, twisting and tugging in a comforting manner. His head lulled towards the hands, allowing them to guide him into the dark. Harry could feel the warmth of another body, but he couldn't see anything. It was as though he was blind because while he could feel and hear everything, he could see nothing but darkness._

_This was wrong._

_Pulling and struggling against the hands, Harry hissed as the fingers turned from comforting to demanding, pulling him harshly towards the warmth of a body._

"_Have I not been patient?" A sinful voice demanded when Harry continued to thrash around, "Have I not been a faithful servant?"_

_It seemed that the being was growing tired of his weak attempts to distance himself and so, long fingers snaked around his neck, tightening their grip, "Why then, do you do this? Why do you hide?"_

_Small hands clawed and scratched at the hands choking him but it was as though he was clawing at nothing. Harry reached up and his fingers dragged across the skin on his neck, only he could still feel the fingers choking him._

"_I have missed you, I have craved you." the voice hissed, "Come to me."_

_Harry gasped, "No,"_

_He could feel tears slip from his eyes, creating tracks down the sides of his face. _

_The fingers disappeared and Harry felt as though he was falling before darkness surrounded him once more. He gasped for air, dragging it into his lungs while coughing and wheezing. _

_Harry prepared himself for another attack as he heard footsteps closing in towards him. He felt cold fingers stroke his face before something warm and plush fell against his lips, prying them apart._

_As his lips were pried apart, a strange substance entered his mouth._

_It tasted foul and had the texture of tar. _

_It seemed to consume him, his body focusing on nothing but the substance that seemed to control him. It stopped him from moving, from thinking, it stopped him from breathing. He was certain that this was it, this was how he would die. Not from Voldemort, not from a dragon but from an enemy he couldn't see._

"_Come to me," the wicked voice purred._

-x- dream over -x-

Harry's eyes snapped open as he shot up. His hands hastily trailing over his neck and his face as he gasped for air. There were no bruises, nothing. It had been a dream. But one that had felt so real.

"Oh good, you're up." A deep voice called from the door.

Pushing his dark hair away from his eyes, Harry smiled at the blond dwarf that walked into the room. He was holding a plate piled high with greens. Noticing Harry's gaze, Fili rolled his eyes, "I know, horrid. They only eat grass."

With a small laugh, Harry took the plate from the Dwarf's grasp, "Thank you."

"No problem," Fili said, slipping onto the vacated seat by the bed, "You know, you gave us all a fright back there. Even Uncle, though he won't admit it. You've got to be more careful."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, touched by the worry in the dwarf's eyes.

Leaning back into the chair, Fili shook his head, "I actually came to tell you that you missed quite the lunch. It seems Kili found himself an Elven maid...only, she turned out to be a he."

Harry choked back a laugh as he watched Fili do quite the same. It was only seconds later that the smile vanished from Fili's face and a mischievous smirk took its place, "Say, have you found an Elven maid yourself?"

"What?" Harry asked, his voice going higher as he felt his face heat up.

"Your lips, Harry." Fili wiggled his eyebrows, "They're bruised."

Harry's eyes widened in shock as his hand reached up to touch his lips. Fili was right, they were bruised. But that was impossible… it had been a nightmare.

Translations:

[1]"Echuio," - Wake up,

[2]"Iston i nîf gîn."- I know your face.

[3]"Man cerig?" - What are you doing?

[4]"Av-'osto" - Do not be afraid.

[5]"Gwestog," - Do you promise?

**A/N: Okay, so for me it's summer now! Which mean I actually have time to update because I have no life. This chapter has a lot of hints in it and I wanted to end it here because the next chapter will be quite long because a lot in going to happen in Rivendell.**

**So, anyone have any ideas as to what's going on with Harry?**


	7. Chapter 7

Rivendell Part ⅓

Harry groaned as he struggled to keep his eyes open. It had been hours since Fili's departure and Harry was entirely too reluctant to fall asleep, in fear of what his dreams held for him this time. Adjusting his position on the bed, Harry stared out the window at the night sky. It was silent in this place, too silent.

Dragging himself off the bed, Harry tested putting weight on his healing leg. When his leg didn't collapse under the weight, he drew himself up. There was a slight limp in his movement and his leg throbbed under the weight, but it was tolerable enough.

Slowly making his way to the door of the Healing Room, Harry was shocked by the view before him. It looked like a picture from a fairy tale book. It was beautiful, the stonework illuminated by the moonlight. But (and Harry believed himself to be horribly biased) it didn't compare to Hogwarts. Hogwarts possessed a welcoming beauty, Hogwarts was his home and nothing to compare to its magic filled halls.

Turning away from the scene before him, Harry leaned his weight on the walls as he slowly made his way around Rivendell, pausing only to glance at stonework and art. The paintings that decorated the halls of Rivendell were beautiful and while unmoving, there was life in the scenes that were painted on the walls before him.

"You are not supposed to be here, Henig."[1]

Harry spun quickly, and his magic feeling threatened wrapped around him like a second skin prepared to protect him.

Only, he wasn't greeted by the hall he had just walked through, instead darkness greeted him. Unlike his dream, he could see. He could move. Something was wrong.

A shadow slithered out from the darkness, taking the form of a man.

It was with fascination that Harry watched the darkness shape itself. There before him stood a man with dark hair that seemed to fade into the darkness behind him and eyes that were a pure silver, burning with eons of knowledge.

His beauty matched Irmo's… possibly even surpassed it. Physically, he was like Irmo too, tall with a lithe build but unlike Irmo, his form seemed to take up the entire space, making it the center of attention. It seemed both terribly fragile and horribly powerful.

Realising that he was staring, Harry shook his head, "I didn't come here because I wanted to."

"No?" the man asked, arching his eyebrow and while his face was emotionless, Harry could've sworn he saw amusement flicker in his eyes.

"Of course not!" Harry cried, "Last time I spoke to one of you lot, I got landed with these gashes on my leg!"

The man hummed, "In Irmo's defense, it has been long since he has reached out to mortals. He does not understand that there is in fact a wrong time to converse with someone, an example being the off chance that they're fleeing from orcs and wargs."

Harry blinked owlishly at the man before him, at the mirthful lilt to his voice that did not match his cold and harsh beauty in the slightest.

"You are the brother Irmo told me about, yeah?" Harry asked suddenly, "The one who watched over me."

A small smile twitched at the man's lips, vanishing quite as suddenly as it had appeared as he purred, "Indeed. My given name is Mandos and I watched over you as you faced what the bravest could not."

"Voldemort?" Harry asked, licking his dry lips.

Voldemort struck fear in the hearts of many, but he knew many people, many brave people who faced Voldemort, who stood against him as he attempted to gain power.

Mandos' eyes narrowed dangerously at the mention of the soulless one, his eyes flashing a cold black as he felt the parasitic worm that clung to Harry.

"Nay, it is not the living the bravest fear," Mandos said, "But death."

At Harry's non-believing frown, Mandos' eyebrow arched once more, "It is the fear of being judged after Death. Believe me Harry, it strikes fear in the hearts of most. When all their sins lay before them, demanding attention. Knowing that a time will come where they will no longer live on, not in the memories of those who knew them and not in books or history. But you are not like them, you do not fear Death, you fear..."

The Valar trailed off as Harry recalled his third year and whispered, "Fear."

A peaceful silence settled between the two as Mandos regarded the child of man before him.

"Many of the Valar are uncertain of you," Mandos mumbled, "I do not see it, you look fairly pathetic to me."

"Thanks," Harry grumbled rolling his eyes,

"I meant no offense," Mandos corrected himself quickly, "Pathetic is good."

Offering the Vala before him a dull frown, Harry said, "I'm done with this conversation."

Frowning, Mandos said, "Perhaps the next time we meet, I shall learn a more complimenting vocabulary. My own over the past years merely consists of demeaning and judgement words."

"That would be refreshing," Harry replied with a small smirk.

While Mandos was straight to the point and fair at hiding his emotions, Harry enjoyed his company. Unlike Irmo, Mandos did not seem to want anything from me (as of yet) and he offered Harry comfort from his nightmares.

-x-

When Harry blinked, he was back in the bed he had been in earlier before his 'adventure' and he felt well rested. With a quickly whispered thank you, Harry pulled himself up.

The first thing he noticed was that his wand was no longer in his pocket and with in a worried frenzy, Harry scanned the room. When his eyes settled on the familiar object resting on the table beside him, an embarrassed blush clung to his cheeks.

"I apologize," A soft voice called from the door, "It did not seem to be comfortable to sleep with."

Harry frowned uncertainly at the tall man who stood by the door. This man was indeed beautiful with blond hair that fell down his back and blue eyes. But unlike Elrond, this man looked entirely capable of ripping someone's head off and Harry was certain that this man could look just as carefree and peaceful doing so as he looked at this moment.

"Thanks," Harry mumbled, limping towards him.

He noticed the frown that tugged at the man's lips when he saw Harry's limp.

"Not all of us can look graceful doing everything," Harry grumbled, as he neared the man.

The man bowed his head slightly in what Harry assumed was an apology before saying, "I am Lord Glorfindel, and I am here to escort you to breakfast."

As Harry followed Glorfindel down through the halls of Rivendell, he was very much aware of the man staring at him from the corner of his eye the entire time. It was only moments later that, with a smirk, Glorfindel asked, "Did you enjoy your excursion last night?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry lied,

Glorfindel's smirk widened at the boy's obvious lie, "If you had remained in that room the entire night, you would have been quite surprised by the beauty of my home, but you aren't."

"You should wait for someone else to tell you your home's beautiful, you prat." Harry hissed, stomping towards the Dwarves as soon as he saw them, intent on ignoring the laughter that sounded behind him.

It was Thorin who noticed Harry first, and Harry was surprised by the flicker of relief in his eyes. A small smile curled at the Dwarf's lips as his eyes settled on Harry. Only the smile was quick to tug down into a frown when he saw Harry's obvious limp.

Bofur was the next to notice Harry, and beamed at the approaching boy, "Good to see you up lad!"

His loud voice drew the attention of the rest of the company, all of whom greeted Harry with great enthusiasm. They were loud enough that Harry caught a handful of men glaring at them as they walked by.

It was only when one of the men brushed a strand of hair behind his ear that Harry noticed that their ears were pointed.

"What are they?" Harry whispered to Gloin who sat on his right.

Casting the boy an odd glance, the older Dwarf hissed, "Elves...Don't tell you haven't seen one of their lot before?"

"Can't say I have."

"Then you can consider yourself one of the lucky ones," Thorin grumbled from his position across from Harry.

He watched Harry eat the salad before him with disgust clear on his face. And for once, Harry was certain that his foul mood wasn't directed towards him because his eyes were glaring down at the salad before him. And Harry was certain he heard him mumble something about rabbit food.

With a small smirk, Harry silently continued to eat the food.

"Have you apologized to Gandalf as of yet?" Thorin asked, giving the boy before him a hard look.

"I intend to." Harry admitted, "Not because you want me to."

A sneer tugged at the King's lips as he hissed, "You need to learn to hold your tongue."

Thorin glared daggers at the boy before him as Harry made a great show of grabbing his tongue in between his fingers and offering Thorin a bland look. Ignoring the laughter that sounded from his nephews, Thorin opened his mouth to reprimand the boy, only to be silenced by the annoying voice of an Elf.

"Come, Henig. Let us see your abilities."[1]

Turning his head, Thorin cast a glare at the blond Elf who smiled down at one of his company. This particular Elf seemed too interested in Harry, and Thorin had heard him asking Gandalf about the boy on multiple occasions. It wasn't just this Elf who was odd. He hadn't missed the strange looks that were directed at Harry from the pointed eared abominations, and so he growled, "I too shall come see."

Thorin didn't miss the amusement that flashed in the Elf's eyes at his accusing tone.

"Um...I'd rather someone else," Harry mumbled, "If you don't mind."

Thorin rounded on the boy, angered by his request but when he saw the uneasy expression on the boy's face, his anger was quick to ebb away.

He was a child, not even of age in the eyes of his own kin. And afraid by the looks of it. Thorin's eyes scanned his own company before settling on a certain Dwarf that Thorin was sure could both put the boy and ease and hold his own against any Elf.

"Dori," Thorin said simply, before stomping out of the room.

The dwarf in question quickly moved to stand behind the child of man before grumbling, "On you go, lad."

-x-

Harry frowned at the room they had just entered. It was large much like every other room in this place but unlike the rest of this place, there were no windows, and only one door. The room itself was odd… empty, not even paintings hung from the walls.

The room seemed dead.

"Why this room?" Harry asked,

"So your magic has nothing to destroy." A cool voice called from behind him.

Harry spun around to see none other than Elrond strolling in behind Glorfindel, an uncertain frown on his face as he regarded Harry's wand with distrust.

"Not all magic is destructive," Harry grumbled, annoyed by how misinformed the man...Elf was. At Elrond's obvious disbelief, Harry scowled.

Harry pointed his wand towards the center of the room, and took a deep breath.

Harry closed his eyes and thought.

"_I don't know," Hermione mumbled, casting an uncertain glance at the two boys who stood beside her._

_The trio were the only ones on the Quidditch field, the last of the team having cleared out only minutes before._

_Harry watched with excitement as Hermione's fingers curled tightly around the broomstick in her hand, Harry's own fingers wound around his own even tighter knowing his friend had been swayed._

_Eyes darting to Ron, Hermione demanded, "And if I fall, you'll catch me?"_

"_Promise," Ron nodded, mounting his broom._

_With a huff, Hermione mounted the broom. While Ron flew with speed, Hermione was far slower and her movements were stiff and uncertain as she rose._

_Harry was the last to mount his broom and join his friends. Both he and Ron flew on either side of Hermione, coaxing her to loosen up and relax. And while her posture remained stiff, a laugh slipped through her lips at her friends' barely contained excitement._

_Harry wasn't certain how long they flew around the Quidditch Field, but he didn't care. He was too busy enjoying the weightless feeling of flying, feeling untouchable and at home. Their laughter echoing through the field, made it easy for the trio to forget what awaited them once they landed._

Lifting his wand, Harry pointed it before him before whispering, "Expecto Patronum."

Magic leaked out of his wand, the smoke danced around the room before it began to take form. The smoke began to mold itself in the shape of a stag that wove its way around the room, dancing around the occupants of the room.

The Elves were particularly awed by this magic for the stag looked to be made of the purest starlight. As though the heavens had swooped down to dance amongst the living.

Glorfindel's fingers reached out to touch the stag, and was surprised by how his fingers slipped through the foggy stag with ease.

"Magnificent," the Elf whispered.

Lowering his wand, Harry watched as Prongs vanished, leaving him cold and feeling extremely uneasy. Tilting his head to look at Lord Elrond, Harry whispered, "Not all magic is used to harm."

A large hand curled around Harry's shoulder.

It belonged to Dori.

While Dori hadn't actually held a conversation with the young wizard that traveled with their company, it didn't mean that he hadn't kept a close eye on the boy. And that was all he was...a boy, a child. While he had magnificent power, the likes of which he never seen before, he was still a child. And Dwarves were protective of their young. While Harry was a child of man, he was a part of their company, and so (however against the boy's will), a part of their odd family.

The Elf Lord's instant dislike for Harry was something their company was quick to notice, but it seemed that a fair few of the Elves seemed to share his mistrust and dislike for Harry. In contrast to the Lord, there were some who were quite a tad bit too intrigued by Harry.

The company knew that Gandalf was hiding something regarding the child of man, but it seemed that he was hiding it from the person in question as well, and so Dori felt less inclined to question the boy's loyalties.

"Come on, lad. We don't have to listen to this rubbish." Dori grumbled, dragging Harry away from the Elves (not before he spat a colorful curse at them).

Nodding, Harry allowed the older Dwarf to guide Harry out of the room, leaving Glorfindel and Elrond alone.

"I agree with Gandalf," Glorfindel whispered when he was certain that the strange duo were no longer close enough to hear him.

"Then you are a fool."

"For having hope?" Glorfindel demanded, anger dancing across his face at his friend's immaturity.

Elrond's hands fisted as he hissed, "That thing should not make you hope, it should make you fear."

"Tell me, My Lord… Do you often fear children?"

-x-

Harry studied the older Dwarf who was currently leading him somewhere (probably to the rest of the company, Harry assumed).

He was one of the few Dwarves that had never made any move to speak to Harry at any time. He prefered to spend his time with his brothers, and while just as loud as the rest of his company, the Dwarf opted to grumble to himself more often that he chose to voice his opinions.

He was one of the Dwarves in the company that didn't remind Harry of someone from home, and for that he couldn't be more thankful. Because at the moment, Harry didn't want to be reminded of home, and his friends who were probably worried sick about him.

Clearing his throat to draw Harry's attention, Dori said, "Dwarves are sometimes a bit harsh with their children… He didn't mean it."

"What?" Harry asked,

Harry watched as the Dwarf's hand vanished behind his greying hair as he awkwardly scratched his head. It was obvious that this wasn't the ideal situation for the warrior, but nonetheless, he explained, " We Dwarves are very… family oriented. We might be a tad hard on our young but it's because we want them safe. Thorin didn't mean to be harsh...but you're so thick skulled lad, he didn't have another choice."

"Oh,"

Clearing his throat once more, Dori made the two stop beside a door that Harry hadn't seen before, "Thorin's in there. You need to apologize."

_There it is._ Harry thought. He no longer sounded out of his element, instead he ordered Harry as a parent would. When he saw that Harry made no move to argue, Dori nodded, grumbling something under his breath before turning away to return in the direction they came from.

Only, he stopped a few feet away from Harry, turning towards Harry and frowning, "If you have any of those night terrors again, you're welcome to sleep with the company."

**So I got stitches on my arm… and I can barely move the hand without it hurting. One more week to go before I can get them off though.**

**As for relationships, I've decided Thorin will be taking more of a parental role in this fanfic, but I've narrowed it down to three...well beings let's just say so...that's something.**

**And regarding my last question, a bunch of you got it right… I'm still not going to tell you what the correct answer was though because I'll wait until it comes up again.**

**Finally the Valar, um...Mandos and Irmo will play huge roles in this… but the other Valar won't actually be as kind to Harry. A few will be uncaring and some will be downright cruel BUT there will be good reasons for the way they act.**

**Question time, what weapon should Harry wield, in your opinion? Because I've got one in mind but I want to see if there's any other suggestions. **

**Translations:**

**[1] Henig - My Child**


	8. Chapter 8

Thorin watched with thinly veiled interest as Harry swept into the armory. The boy was obviously having quite the internal conflict, if the expression on his face was anything to go by. He was scowling and mumbling as he advanced towards him, an embarrassed blush colored his cheeks. His fingers curled harshly around his short magic staff.

"I," he started, looking up at Thorin, "am sorry."

Thorin's eyebrows arched at the statement. It wasn't one he was expecting from the spitfire of a boy, actually he had quite honestly expected something childish or arrogant to fall from those lips. Thorin frowned and reached out his arm to grab the boy's shoulder, only to see Harry flinch away from the hand.

It was a small action, barely noticeable but it made Thorin stiffen at what it suggested. He had noticed that the boy was wary when around people, how he retaliated against any dominating force. It was something he had seen often in some of the older Dwarves in his company who had seen particularly harsh battles in their lifetimes.

But even if this boy had seen battle, he hadn't actively participated in it. He had seen the boy freeze up in tough situations and only when his life was threatened and the person honestly wished harm upon the boy would his magic lash out. His uncontrolled magic. If this boy had seen war, he had been a victim.

"You are weak," Thorin began, "and thin, even for a human child. Malnourished, jumpy, defensive."

Harry's eyes hardened, "What are you suggesting?"

Arching a brow, Thorin smirked, "Only that you need training. No matter how magical you are, you cannot frolic into battle with a stick."

"Wand!" Harry corrected.

"Stick," Thorin said, "And I have the perfect thing."

With that, Thorin spun and walked towards the table where a handful of weapons sat. Grabbing a small shield from atop the pile, he threw it at Harry. Surprised by the weight of the object, Harry held it close to his chest with both hands, struggling to not let it drop.

"A shield?" Harry asked,

Frowning at the boy struggling to hold the shield properly, Thorin explained, "When your life is threatened, your magic will protect you, that is certain. You need to control that before you try anything else. This," Thorin tapped the shield, "will ensure your limbs remain intact if your magic falls short."

Thorin stared at Harry blankly for a moment, watching him try to adjust the weight of the shield. After a second failed attempt, Thorin snatched the shield from the boy and gripped his arm. Tightening the straps of the shield around Harry's thin arm, Thorin hissed, "Like this."

Dropping his arm, Thorin took a few steps back from Harry, towards the pile of weapons.

He would train him like he would his own nephews, the boy would not get treated differently. And so, with a glance at Harry, Thorin advanced towards the weapons.

Testing the weight of the shield on his arm, Harry watched Thorin warily as he neared the weapons. He took a step towards the door and asked, "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," Thorin shrugged, his fingers curling around the hilt of a sword. His eyes strayed to Harry's form, noticing how the boy was moving his feet slightly, prepared to run if required to.

When Harry lowered the shield slightly, revealing his chest, Thorin spun, aiming the Elven blade in his hand towards the boy's unprotected chest.

A cool smirk curled at Thorin's lips as he watched Harry pull the shield up just in time for it to intercept the harsh blow. However, he miscalculated the force of the blow, and he was thrown off balance.

He fell on his back but Thorin proceeded with his attack, this time aiming for the boy's legs. Pulling his legs behind the safety of the shield as quickly as he could, Harry couldn't believe how quickly the Dwarf lord moved. His attacks left little time for Harry to think and strategize, let alone grasp his wand which had fallen too far for him to reach.

He willed his magic to lash out but because he knew that Thorin meant no real harm to him, his magic remained dormant. A fact that Thorin knew quite well from the confident sparkle in his eye.

But even with the rough and ongoing assault, the shield held true, protecting Harry's limbs from being chopped off. Only, it grew heavy as Harry grew tired and his arms shook with the weight of it for a good while, but with a hard blow, Harry's arm dropped from the weight.

As he did so, Thorin's eyes widened and he attempted to pull away mid blow. Only the blade wasn't his own and he hadn't quite the best control over it, it was too light, built for the Elven kind and so, while Harry wasn't impaled, the blade nicked his arm deep enough for it to bleed.

Harry's eyes widened at the feeling of blood drip down his arm. His magic fluttered around him slightly, shocked by the fact that Thorin had in fact harmed Harry.

"You stupid child," Thorin hissed, shock clear in his eyes as he realized he had almost killed the boy, "Never drop your shield. Do you want to die?"

His eyes strayed to Harry's wound and he froze. Following his eyes, Harry found himself staring at his own bloodied arm. A tar like substance oozed from his wound, mixing with the blood.

Thorin was quicker to regain his composure and quickly reached around his neck, tugging at a golden chain.

From the chain hung an odd charm, with Dwarvish writing on it. Gripping Harry's elbow, he held the charm against the cut.

And it burned red hot. All Harry knew was pain, he could feel the tar like substance in his body, he could feel it burning as it exited his body. All the while, he could hear Thorin mumbling something under his breath.

When the pain slowly ebbed away, Harry's eyes fluttered open. A hand reaching up to wipe his tears away. He could feel something cool around his neck. Glancing down, Harry realized it was the charm that Thorin had been wearing.

"What was that?" Harry asked, looking up at Thorin who was sitting down next him.

"Do you often bleed tar?" Thorin asked, and at Harry's frown, he said, "Witchcraft. A strong sort."

"How'd you know what to do?" Harry asked, wincing at how his voice broke.

Thorin reached out and brushed a strand of Harry's hair away from his forehead like one would do to a child, "When I was young, I also was on the receiving end of such a curse."

A small smile tugged at the King's lips, "My grandfather was furious, blaming it on my father's negligence. It was quite it an intriguing day."

"It seems that I've been getting hurt here real often." Harry whispered.

Clearing his throat, Thorin drew himself up, his eyes glancing everywhere but Harry as he said, "Perhaps this should remain between us."

Pulling himself up as well, Harry unstrapped the shield from his arm before nodding, "Thank you."

-x-

It wasn't long after his encounter with Thorin that Harry happened upon Bilbo staring up at a painting in the library. Sliding up to him, Harry looked up at the painting that Bilbo was so intrigued by.

"The war of the ring." A familiar voice hummed from behind them.

It startled Bilbo, pulling him out of his musing and a blush colored his cheeks as he turned to see Harry and behind him, Glorfindel.

"Henig," [1]Glorfindel smiled down at Harry before turning to the painting and explaining, "It was a dark time. The Dark Lord Sauron waged war on Middle Earth. The ring on his finger, well surely you already know of that."

Harry shook his head as he stared at the picture. The armored dark lord, he seemed to familiar and Harry couldn't shake the thought that he knew him.

"Three rings for the Elven-kings under the sky, Seven for the Dwarf-lords in halls of stone, Nine for mortal men, doomed to die, One for the-"

"Dark Lord on his dark throne," Glorfindel nodded, cutting Bilbo off.

"So that's him then? That's what he looked like?" Bilbo asked, shivering slightly as he stared up at the painting.

A frown pulled at Glorfindel's lips, "He once was fair. His name was Mairon and he was a Maia much like Mithrandir."

"What happened?" Harry asked, his tongue darting out to wet his chapped lips.

"He was corrupted by Melkor, who would later be known as Morgoth." Glorfindel explained,

"And Melkor, what happened to him?"

"He was defeated and thrust into the timeless void." Glorfindel said, a small smile tugging at his lips, "Some say that he is destined to rise again. Perhaps the fall will not be the last we see of him."

Frowning at the sparkle in the Elf's eyes, Harry nodded, "Thank you for the story."

"Yes, thank you indeed!" Bilbo nodded, "It was truly splendid."

Kneeling down, Glorfindel tilted his head, "Your words bring me great happiness, Master Hobbit."

Blushing at the attention, Bilbo waved his hands, his eyes straying from the beautiful face of the Elven Lord in front of him. As they trailed away, they found Harry's familiar green eyes.

A smile pulled at Bilbo lips as he asked, "Oh Harry, I was so distracted. How are you faring, better I should hope?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded eagerly, "Thank have you been? Exploring I'd bet."

Glorfindel smiled at the two friends. Both too innocent for the world, and it brought the Elven Lord great displeasure knowing that this journey would hurt them.

His eyes found the charm that hung from the boy's neck and a smirk tugged at his lips, it seemed that the Dwarf King was beginning to like the fiery boy.

"I shall take my leave," Glorfindel declared, before rising gracefully.

Bilbo barely gave a wave as he eagerly told Harry about the beauty of Rivendell, but Harry glanced up at Glorfindel. A small smile graced the boy's lips as he gave a soft nod to the Elf.

"And the sculptures…" Bilbo went on, describing in great detail the things that Harry had missed during his time in the healing room.

Harry listened to Bilbo narrating the beauty of Rivendell half-heartedly, his mind on the story of Melkor and Mairon.

-x-

A/N: Okay so I just got back from vacation and there was no wifi, so forgive me. On a side note, I decided to split this chapter up and add another Rivendell part because I want Harry to become more comfortable with the company. Another thing, I decided on no weapon, because until Harry can control his magic, he can't have a weapon in my opinion.

[1] Henig - My child


	9. Chapter 9

_It was a happy time, perhaps one of the few the Mountain would see in a long time. Laughter filled halls, a bountiful supply of gold being mined and no mentions of wars. Of course, war might have been mentioned, but it never did reach the ears of the young princes._

_Of course, little would. They were far too lost in their own world. Currently they were too busy locked in a dance of blades._

_It was obvious who was leading the dance, Thorin Oakenshield slashed away at his opponent, his dark hair brushing against his shoulders each time he pulled back to strike. He fought with grace and a stubbornness that he would certainly carry with him his entire life._

_His opponent shied away from his blows, barely able to stand the harshness. His sword did little in this dance, for it never got the chance. Instead both he and the sword were crouched behind the safety of the shield. When he knew he could do little to defeat his brother, Frerin brushed a strand of his blond hair away from his face and lowered his shield._

_Thorin was unprepared for his brother bowing out of the battle, and with widened eyes, he made to draw back his sword that was already aimed towards his heart. While skilled, it reminded Thorin that he too still had much to learn as he couldn't stop the blow fast enough. While it didn't meet its intended mark, it still grazed the dwarf's side, leaving a long scratch upon the armor._

"_You must be barking mad!" Thorin cried as his fear ebbed away and was replaced by anger, "I could have killed you."_

"_But you did not," Frerin laughed, unaffected by his brother's anger, "And you have learned an important lesson. Do not get ahead of yourself."_

"_Do you not understand that you could have died?" Thorin demanded,_

"_No," Frerin protested, shaking his head as he tugged a chain that hung from his neck._

_From it hung a pendant, one of the many that Frerin kept. He claimed it would protect him. He claimed it was magic and it would shield him, "It would have stopped you."_

_Thorin frowned at his brother's easy going attitude, he was both wise beyond his years and incredibly stupid. But as his wonder filled eyes swept up to meet his, Thorin decided that he didn't quite care, "You should stick to an axe."_

_Crinkling his nose at the statement, Frerin said, "Oh dear, it seems that my ultimate goal to look as magnificent as you do with a sword has been shattered. However shall I go on, really?"_

-x-

"_Come on, Thorin," Frerin whispered, tugging at his brother's trousers from under the table._

_With wide eyes, Thorin surveyed the Dwarves around him. They were old and worn, all of them wore scowls and Thorin wished he didn't look like that he was older. His eyes dragged towards the end of the table where his grandfather and father sat. His grandfather had a sour look on his face as he spoke to the dwarf on his left, it seemed that he was always in a foul mood when they held dinners. His father on the other hand caught his straying eyes and gave Thorin a knowing smirk and wink._

_That was as close to permission that he would ever get and so Thorin slid down from his chair and under the table where Frerin sat waiting._

_The two young princes crawled beneath the table, avoiding legs and food that had fallen off the tables as they wiggled towards the entrance to the sleeping chambers._

_Crawling and hiding, the two brothers sneaked out of the dining chamber, away from the loud laughter and shouting._

_Their footsteps echoed through the halls as they swept into their grandfather's sleeping chambers._

"_We should not be here," Thorin protested, reaching out to grasp Frerin's tunic._

_Wiggling out of his brother's hold, Frenin shrugged, "We should not have left the dining chambers either but I don't fancy sitting with screaming, angry old men."_

"_Yes, but we are not allowed in this room. Anywhere else is fine." Thorin pushed,_

_Waving off his brother's protests, Frerin stalked into the room, making no effort to be quiet. Casting a large smile at his brother, he edged towards his grandfather's night stand. And in that instant, Thorin knew what he was looking for._

_Grandfather wore it everywhere, except to dinners, he claimed that someone would think to steal it. Thorin never understood why anyone would want something so old and useless when surrounded by gleaming gold and glittering jewels._

_As Frerin eyed the small jewellery box that sat on the nightstand, he whispered, "Father told me about it. It's from a story."_

"_What tale?" Thorin asked, nearing the box._

"_You know, the War of the Ring."_

_With a gasp, Thorin's hand reached out, swatting Frerin's hand away from the box. It a brush, barely anything. The back of his hand merely grazed the box before pain shot through his body._

_He could hear Frerin's scared voice cry his name out but he felt nothing, he could see nothing. And suddenly, it grew hard to breathe. Thorin's hand clawed at his throat but he could not draw in any air. Instead it felt like darkness was being shoved down his throat and through his body._

_In the back of his mind, he could hear footsteps approaching him, and he pulled into warm arms. He felt something cool dig into his skin and he heard the voice of his father chanting something._

_It sounded strange, in a language Thorin was certain he'd never heard before. But he could not dwell on the thought because as he chanting grew stronger, the pain ebbed away and it grew easier to breathe. As his mind grew clearer, his stomach lurched and he doubled over and emptied the contents of his stomach. It felt like an endless stream of tar was exiting his body._

_-x-_

_As Thorin's eyes fluttered open, he was greeted by a stiff pain in his body. It felt alien, as though this body was not his own. Rising, all the while ignoring the pain, he saw his brother sitting on a stool beside his bed, watching him with owlish eyes._

"_Stop that," Thorin grumbled when Frerin continued to stare._

_The words shook Frerin from his shock and a relieved smile slid onto his face, and Thorin noticed the traces of stubble on his brother's face, "You're okay."_

"_I am, but the question is, will I be when Father is through with me?" Thorin pointed out rolling his head to ease his stiff neck._

"_Well," Frerin began, glancing at the closed door before slipping a chain from around his neck, "Maybe you'll need this. Father used this to heal you. I told you it was magic… but you need this more than I do."_

-x-

While in Rivendell, the company had grown more accustomed to their new companions. While they saw little of Bilbo Baggins who was often busy exploring the halls of Rivendell, they did see their youngest companion. Many of the Dwarves opted to spend time with the boy, ensuring that he was never without a Dwarf and Harry assumed that Thorin was somehow to blame.

After the incident while 'training' it seemed that while Thorin barely spent any time with Harry, every other Dwarf would never leave him alone. While some made him feel safer like Dori or Balin, he prefered the company of Ori, Fili or Kili.

He liked the peace and quiet with Ori, for it was a comfortable sort, no awkwardness. Fili and Kili offered quite the opposite. As much as trouble loved to follow Harry, it seemed that the brothers loved causing it just as much.

While Harry saw little of Thorin or Gandalf, whenever he did catch their eye across the room, there would be no hostility…. from either end.

"You okay there, lad?" Bofur asked, his eyes fixated on Harry's form.

The boy was currently playing with the chain around his neck absentmindedly, never quite bringing the charm out from under his shirt. A frown on his lips as he did so. At Bofur's question, his eyes snapped up to the Dwarf's, "Of course. I'm just… thinking about earlier, with the wargs."

"Not good to dwell on the past," the calm voice of Balin cut in, causing Harry to turn to meet the older Dwarf's eyes.

He was sitting across from Harry, and had been studying him from his spot. His eyes straying to the chain around the boy's neck, Balin had seen it before, of that he was certain… but where, he wouldn't know until he got a look at the charm that hung from it.

"I wasn't dwelling, just thinking. I need to practice the spells I already know, or I'll be useless." Harry explained, dropping the chain.

"Well at least you'll have Bilbo to keep you company," Bofur offered, a small smile on his lips.

"Careful," Harry warned, "Or you'll wake up to find all the company's pipes destroyed."

Harry frowned up at the Dwarf who calmly walking up to him and threw a large arm over his shoulder, all the while smiling the same way Harry remembered Fred and George smiling when they were about to do something wicked.

Sensing the boy's discomfort and unease, Bofur's smile turned into something more akin to a smirk, and his eyes narrowed playfully as he whispered, "Oh but dear Harry, you see us Dwarves are grumpy on our best days. If you did something like that, well… it would go punished."

His suggestive tone made Harry choke, a bright flush spreading across his face. He could hear Kili and Fili snickering from the other end of the table. It was then that Harry decided he was very wrong to assume sitting next to Bofur at dinner was a better choice than beside Kili and Fili.

Tilting his head up in his best impression of a Malfoy, Harry met Bofur's eyes and said, "Having to look at you in punishment enough."

Bofur laughed heartily at the comment, "Glad to see you're back to your old self lad. Pass the ale."

Smiling slightly at the happy Dwarf, Harry passed the pint of ale next to him towards the laughing Dwarf before wiping his hands on his trousers and pulling himself up, "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to practice some spells."

"Do you intend to sleep with the company tonight?" Kili asked, clearing his throat.

Harry groaned internally, he had much hoped that he'd be able to stray from the company and the Elves and get a moment to himself. But judging by the gleam in his eyes and the way Fili was quickly scarfing his food down like a wild dog, Harry had an idea of why he was asking, "I had intended to."

"Great," Kili exclaimed dragging himself up, "Then we should come with you."

"To help you find the way later, of course." Fili finished, as he too drew himself up.

Hiding his frown, Harry shrugged before leaving the room. He could hear the brothers' footsteps behind him. As he thought of where he could go, his mind strayed to the room that he had gone to before when demonstrating his patronus charm.

He walked through the halls, uncertain if he was going the correct way. His uncertainty was quick to ebb away when he saw the familiar door. Pushing through the door, Harry cleared his throat and turned to look at the brothers who were watching him with great interest.

The room was just how Harry remembered, empty.

"You should stay by the door," Harry advised, drawing out his wand.

Flexing his hand around his wand, Harry recalled the helpless feeling with the trolls, where he couldn't remember a single useful spell. It aggravated him now, feeling so pathetic, and his mind shuffled through the spells he had learned, he smiled. While he didn't know too much, he had quite the arsenal, more than enough for an adventure. Aside from offensive spells, Harry shuffled through spells that could prove useful during their journey.

Raising his wand, Harry aimed his wand towards the open space in front of him, "Lumos."

He could feel the magic surge through his wand as the tip of his wand began to glow, a small orb of light rested at the tip of the wand. Letting it illuminate the room for a second, Harry whispered, "Nox."

Spinning around quickly, Harry flicked his wand, "Colloportus."

Harry couldn't hide the smile that slithered onto his lips as he watched Fili and Kili jump when the door behind them slammed shut. It was quite the image, two armored Dwarves frightened by a loud noise.

Aiming his wand at Kili, Harry ignored the way the Dwarf's eyes widened and said, "Wingardium Leviosa."

Harry watched as Kili yelped in shock as he began to rise. It wasn't done quite gracefully and he was struggling to balance but Harry considered it quite the feat, considering the last time he'd performed the spell, he'd only done it on a feather.

Lowering his wand gently, Harry's wand turned to Fili as soon as Kili's feet brushed the ground once more. Harry watched as Fili freed his sword its sheath and held it out towards Harry in almost a threatening manner. A wary look in his eyes, Fili took a step forward, only that was as far as he got before his sword was ripped from his hand and thrown across the room with a quickly hissed, "Expelliarmus."

A smirk slid onto Harry's lips, he had never felt his magic so easily. The magic didn't tire him out, it didn't drain his magical core, instead it made him excited. And Harry couldn't hide the smirk on his lips when he saw Fili's shocked eyes turn back to Harry, only for Harry to wave his wand, "Stupefy."

Kili watched in shock as his brother was thrown in the air by an invisible force. As he landed on the ground, he groaned. A snicker slipped from Kili's lips at his brother's horrible luck.

A small smile slid onto Fili's lips as he pulled himself back onto his feet and retrieved his fallen blade, "Any more tricks?"

"Yeah, woul-" Harry was quickly shushed when the trio heard footsteps approaching the room. With a quick glance at each other, the trio rushed towards the locked door, struggle to press their ears against the wood in hopes of hearing who it was.

"A word," The familiar voice of Thorin Oakenshield hissed causing Fili and Kili to glance at each other in confusion.

The trio heard the footsteps stop near the door and the voice of Lord Elrond asked, "And what would that be?"

"Has he been near that blasted ring of yours?" Thorin demanded, the anger in his voice obvious.

"And who are you talking about?" Elrond asked.

"You know,"

Harry strained to listen closer as the voices turned to whispers, "Of course he hadn't."

"Then you are not to blame?" Thorin hissed, disbelief lacing his tone.

They could hear Lord Elrond give a dry laugh, "You have no idea who you are traveling with, do you?"

A/N: I know, what a horrible place to end the chapter. But oh well, I already know what's going to happen. *evil laugh* Also you got some back story on the charm so that's something.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Now I had originally abandoned this story but then I realized I was literally one chapter away until the end of part 1. And by part 1, I don't mean the movie I mean part 1 of the story where Harry will finally realize he isn't completely pathetic and useless…so I'm back…sorry for quitting the book :P**

"I need no help from an Elf!" Thorin's harsh voice hissed, but the curiosity in his tone could not be mistaken for anything else and that curiosity made Harry push his ear closer to the door, forgetting about the brothers who were also listening eagerly.

Something shifted in Harry as he heard the sound of Elrond's robes dragging across the floor as he walked closer towards Thorin. Harry found it exceedingly annoying. Something clawed at him from inside. It was burning passion and it felt like that tar-like substance, burning its way through his body, but this fire was far less painful.

Harry's eyes widened behind his glasses as his eyesight became blurry, all he saw was red and with a swift movement, Harry pushed the glasses off his face allowing them to fall on the floor and shatter.

The sound alerted the duo outside of someone's presence.

Harry was quickly yanked away from the door and into the shadows just as the door opened and Elrond stalked in.

Harry's eyes narrowed from behind the shadows as he watched surprise flash on Elrond's face when he caught sight of the broken glasses that were on the floor before his feet, and then another emotion flashed on his face.

Fear.

But it was quick to vanish and Harry doubted that any of his Dwarven companions had caught it. As Elrond spun and hastily left the room, followed by an angered Dwarf-Lord, Kili let out a breath,

"That was close."

Harry wasn't listening to him however, because it then that he realized that he could see! He could see without his glasses, and his eyesight seemed almost sharper than before.

"Harry," Fili asked, and the cautious tone of voice made Harry's eyes sharply raise to meet his.

Fili and Kili's eyes widened as they stared at Harry before they glanced at each other once as though to confirm that they both had seen the same thing. Reassured by his brother's surprised gaze, Fili continued, "Your eyes, they flashed red for a moment there."

"Magic," Harry said with a lazy smile tugging at his lips, "Correcting my vision."

The lie fell easily from his lips, and he spun his wand between his fingers casually as he watched confusion quickly be replaced by acceptance.

Harry was unaware that he was subconsciously manipulating the magic in the air and causing the paintings on the walls to float.

Harry's eyes widened as he realized what he'd just said. It wasn't true but he'd said it so easily and boldly and it wasn't like him. Spinning on his heel, Harry ran out of the room, ignoring the calls that came behind him.

As he ran down the halls, the fire came back, but this time it was more insisting, refusing to be ignored by the boy.

The wand in his hand burned at his flesh and Harry dropped his only weapon without a second thought as he continued to run.

He was so consumed by the flames licking at him that he didn't pay any mind as he ran straight into a person. An annoyed snarl slipped through his lips as he tumbled back before he launched himself at the person.

It took mere seconds before his back hit a body and a sharp blade pushed into his neck.

As the fire became more insistent, Harry thrashed against his captor in vain.

"Daro! Daro!"[1] A familiar voice pleaded, "You will hurt yourself, Harry."

Harry's lips parted to their own accord and a voice too sinful to be his hissed,** "Ego, *mibo orch," [2]**

The sword digging into Harry's neck drew back slightly and the Elf's head leaned closer, blond strands of hair falling to brush Harry's shoulder, "Morgoth."

**"Melkor,"** The voice corrected with a hint of annoyance, **"Pe-channas!"[3]**

As the last word fell from his lips, Harry felt the forceful magic that he had become accustomed to throw the Elf back and away from him. Slowly spinning around as Glorfindel pulled himself up, Harry stepped on the blade of his sword and the voice asked, **"Peditham hi sui vellyn?"[4]**

Harry watched through his own eyes, unable to control his own body. He watched as Glorfindel rose with feline-like grace, his eyes searching Harry's form. Glorfindel's eyes seemed to stare at him, not the body that he no longer controlled but it was like he was staring at Harry, trapped in his own body.

"It is not you I wish to speak with, Milord." Glorfindel said, his eyes darting to the end of the hall where Elrond and Gandalf were quickly approaching the duo.

**"Daro,"[1]** Harry hissed, waving his arm and halting the duo.

Harry watched as the two men stayed frozen in spot and remembered he'd once seen a professor use such a spell in Hogwarts, though he couldn't quite remember the spell itself. He leaned down and picked up the sword, spinning it in his hand and testing the balance of the blade.

Turning his attention away from Glorfindel, Harry slid over towards Elrond, an excited smirk pulling at his lips. He caught his reflection in the Elf's eyes and Harry couldn't deny he was quite the sight. His eyes were a burning red shining with excitement and a sadistic smirk danced at his lips. Harry could feel the magic thrumming in the air behind him as he lifted his sword and let it graze the Elven lord's neck before purring, **"Amarth faeg!"[5]**

Then the voice finally spoke something that made sense to Harry, "You fear me, Elven lord. You should."

Translations:

**[1] Daro** – Halt

**[2] Ego, *mibo orch **– Go kiss an orc

**[3] Pe-channas **– Idiot

**[4] Peditham hi sui vellyn?** – May we speak as friends now?

**[5] Amarth faeg** – Evil fate

**A/N: I've got a question for you all, what do you suppose led Melkor into falling? What led him to be so corrupt and selfish? **


	11. Chapter 11

As Harry's eyes fluttered open, he saw nothing...or perhaps he saw everything, he wasn't quite certain. He was surrounded by darkness, but he could sense magic cloaking the air around him, it was a familiar sort, and yet entirely unfamiliar. Harry couldn't help but wonder if this was what death felt like, this strange feeling. It wasn't painful and demanding like his last dreams, instead it was unfeeling, and sterile.

Harry watched curiously as a man seemed to slip away from the surrounding darkness and slink towards him. He was tall, abnormally slow, with sickly pale skin and eyes a molten red. Strands of unbelievably dark hair brushed the ground and scars littered the man's body. Harry believed that the man could have been beautiful, but there was something about him that seemed to reject beauty. As Harry gazed at the man clad in the darkest of armors, he decided that this man...this creature felt the most... human.

His eyes studied Harry, with almost a childlike curiosity, as though Harry was the strange one. But perhaps in this situation, Harry was in fact the odd one.

The man's eyes shifted over Harry hastily as though looking for something that he could not find but knew was there.

"You're...Melkor?" Harry asked, recalling Glorfindel's words.

The man tilted his head to the side, as though deep in thought before he nodded to Harry, a small frown on his lips. When he spoke, Harry was adequately frightened, because while his words were nothing but niceties, his voice demanded obedience.

"And you are Harry James Potter." Melkor said, kneeling in front of Harry, "I have waited a very long time for you."

"Why is that?" Harry asked, taking a step away from the man's demanding presence.

"We share something, you and I. We are two sides of the same coin." Melkor hummed, rising from his position and throwing his hand out.

As he did so, the darkness seemed to shift to reveal a scene. It was Rivendell, that much Harry was certain about. However this Rivendell seemed to have been deserted and forgotten by all except time itself. It was broken and empty and dark.

"What...happened?" Harry asked,

"Naught." Melkor stated, "This is what would be of the world, had darkness not invaded the lands."

Staring at the dead scene before him, Harry shook his head, "I do not understand."

"The living are very easily bored. If they having nothing to fight, they will turn on themselves. A villain must always exist, however unwilling the villain may be."

Dragging his eyes away from the sight, Harry demanded, "So, you are Morgoth."

"Nay!" Melkor whispered softly, "I am as much Morgoth as I am you."

"I do not understand." Harry admitted,

Harry watched as Melkor sighed in a very human way before he explained, "I am missing something, Harry. My soul. It has long been ripped apart. Part of it resides in Morgoth, but he has corrupted it. But another part remains and it remains inside you."

"Can't you just take it out?"

Harry was startled when Melkor reached out to cup his face, a laugh slipping from Melkor's lips as he said, "Stripping it from you would kill you. My soul is your essence."

Harry felt himself relax because while this creature's presence was overwhelming and his voice commanding, he spoke to Harry as one would a child...not in a condescending way, instead he spoke kindly and calmly.

"So, it was you in the dreams?" Harry asked, already knowing the answer.

Melkor's eyes fell and settled on the pendant that hung from Harry's neck and he allowed the smallest of smile to brush his lips as he shook his head, "I have no interest in weaving through dreams."

Harry could feel the magic around him shift angrily as though it was being disturbed and from the annoyance that flickered in Melkor's eyes, Harry guessed that he was not far from the truth.

"You are being drawn into the realm of the living, I need your answer now." Melkor stated, gazing down at Harry.

"Answer to what?"

"May I remain with you?" Melkor asked, "I will only be there to help you and guide you."

"Yes."  
As soon as the word slipped from his lips, Harry was yanked back into the waking world. He could feel his ears twitch at the loud sounds that filled this world, as opposed to the calming silence of his dream realm.

He felt strange being in his body now, as though he was both in control of it and not.

He saw a familiar face looming over him. His usual blond hair slightly messy as it hung from his shoulders and his eyes wide as he stared down at Harry.

"Melkor?"

Rolling his eyes slightly as he pulled himself up, Harry said, "He's in here, but I'm taking the front seat."

As Harry glanced around, he was surprised to see no loud Dwarf, nor any angry Elves running from their paths. It was considerably more quiet than Harry remembered it to be. As his curious gaze turned to Glorfindel, he found the Elf watching him patiently.

"The Dwarves left into the night." He explained, "Gandalf however, eagerly await the time you are prepared to leave."

**A/N: So I have exams so I might not update in the next week. I will however have the next chapter be considerably longer. This chapter is merely an introduction to the next 'part'**


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